Published: Saturday, December 21, 2013 at 3:30 a.m.

Last Modified: Wednesday, December 18, 2013 at 8:36 p.m.

When I was growing up, it was a family tradition for my sister and me to have our picture taken with Santa each Christmas.

It’s something I cherish these years later, looking at the discolored Polaroids and old snapshots of my sister and me in our 1980s glory. There was the year that I had that awful perm, and another year that I was in an awkward stage and looked like a boy. There was the Christmas that my sister screamed at Santa, and the multiple years she was wearing braces. We almost always had matching Christmas sweaters. I would give anything to still have one of those sweaters to wear to a tacky Christmas sweater party.

The Santa pictures were a way of documenting our childhood, and something I wanted to do with my children.

So, starting when my daughter was only 8 months old, we’ve always gone to see Santa. The first year, my daughter only broke out in tears after the photo. It’s part of the territory with an infant, I told myself.

But the crying continued. The next Christmas, she tried to claw Santa’s eyes out. At 2 1⁄2, baby brother was around and I think Santa was a little overwhelmed at trying to juggle a 5-month-old and a terrified toddler, who were both wailing. Last year, I brought my mom for support, knowing that I needed another adult to coax my kids into trusting the jolly old imposter in the red coat and beard.

“Don’t do it, it’s not worth them getting upset,” my mom said.

But it’s part of tradition, something I need to do for posterity’s sake, I thought. And so, when we got the photo in the mail, it was of my toddler son sitting on Santa’s lap, screaming, arms stretched out, his face as bright as Santa’s red coat. My daughter, who refused to get anywhere near Santa, was in the background being held by one of Santa’s “helpers.” My daughter’s arms were wrapped around the helper’s neck out of sheer fear that the elf would place her on that old man’s lap.

My daughter will be in kindergarten in August. She’s at the age where visiting Santa should be OK. And so, last week, we visited Santa at the Junior League of Tuscaloosa’s “Breakfast with Santa.” I talked to both the kids about Santa beforehand. My son actually seemed excited. But when my daughter, now 4 1⁄2, saw Santa, she was ready to leave.

“I don’t want to see Santa,” my daughter begged, hiding behind a long line of people. I pleaded, but she was adamant.

So, this year’s Santa picture has just had one child, my 2-year-old son, who was OK showing Santa his red “woo woo” toy fire truck — until he had to sit on Santa’s lap. Then the screaming began.

As we rode home, my daughter asked if Santa always has to come down the chimney. I asked why, and looked in the rear view mirror to see my daughter tearing up.

“Because, I don’t want him to,” my daughter explained.

“OK,” I replied. “This year, Santa will drop off the presents on the front porch instead.”

Sometimes Christmas isn’t what you always expect, but in the end it should always be fun.

Merry Christmas!

Reach Lydia Seabol Avant at 205-722-0222 or email her at lydia.seabolavant@tuscaloosanews.com.Visit www.tuscmoms.com to read her blog, meet other moms in West Alabama and to share photos, videos and more.

<p>When I was growing up, it was a family tradition for my sister and me to have our picture taken with Santa each Christmas. </p><p>It's something I cherish these years later, looking at the discolored Polaroids and old snapshots of my sister and me in our 1980s glory. There was the year that I had that awful perm, and another year that I was in an awkward stage and looked like a boy. There was the Christmas that my sister screamed at Santa, and the multiple years she was wearing braces. We almost always had matching Christmas sweaters. I would give anything to still have one of those sweaters to wear to a tacky Christmas sweater party. </p><p>The Santa pictures were a way of documenting our childhood, and something I wanted to do with my children. </p><p>So, starting when my daughter was only 8 months old, we've always gone to see Santa. The first year, my daughter only broke out in tears after the photo. It's part of the territory with an infant, I told myself. </p><p>But the crying continued. The next Christmas, she tried to claw Santa's eyes out. At 2 1⁄2, baby brother was around and I think Santa was a little overwhelmed at trying to juggle a 5-month-old and a terrified toddler, who were both wailing. Last year, I brought my mom for support, knowing that I needed another adult to coax my kids into trusting the jolly old imposter in the red coat and beard. </p><p>“Don't do it, it's not worth them getting upset,” my mom said. </p><p>But it's part of tradition, something I need to do for posterity's sake, I thought. And so, when we got the photo in the mail, it was of my toddler son sitting on Santa's lap, screaming, arms stretched out, his face as bright as Santa's red coat. My daughter, who refused to get anywhere near Santa, was in the background being held by one of Santa's “helpers.” My daughter's arms were wrapped around the helper's neck out of sheer fear that the elf would place her on that old man's lap. </p><p>My daughter will be in kindergarten in August. She's at the age where visiting Santa should be OK. And so, last week, we visited Santa at the Junior League of Tuscaloosa's “Breakfast with Santa.” I talked to both the kids about Santa beforehand. My son actually seemed excited. But when my daughter, now 4 1⁄2, saw Santa, she was ready to leave. </p><p>“I don't want to see Santa,” my daughter begged, hiding behind a long line of people. I pleaded, but she was adamant. </p><p>So, this year's Santa picture has just had one child, my 2-year-old son, who was OK showing Santa his red “woo woo” toy fire truck — until he had to sit on Santa's lap. Then the screaming began. </p><p>As we rode home, my daughter asked if Santa always has to come down the chimney. I asked why, and looked in the rear view mirror to see my daughter tearing up. </p><p>“Because, I don't want him to,” my daughter explained. </p><p>“OK,” I replied. “This year, Santa will drop off the presents on the front porch instead.”</p><p>Sometimes Christmas isn't what you always expect, but in the end it should always be fun. </p><p>Merry Christmas!</p><p>Reach Lydia Seabol Avant at 205-722-0222 or email her at lydia.seabolavant@tuscaloosanews.com.Visit www.tuscmoms.com to read her blog, meet other moms in West Alabama and to share photos, videos and more.</p>